Saving The Day
by under0
Summary: Liara's life is in danger and Shepard has to fight against time and her own past to save her.
1. The Waiting Room

_Hello everyone!_

 _This story is a sequel to Position of Trust, but it's not necessary to read it as this story has its own plot and theme. But if you are interested in the background of the main characters and what happened to them, I would encourage you to check it out. Also, I feel obligated to warn you that there will be some violence, nothing major but just so you know._

 _If you have any questions about this story or the prequel, feel free to send me a pm._

 _Hope you enjoy this one as much as I did writing it.  
_

* * *

 _Tap-tap-tap_

The sound of fingers dancing across the keyboard filled the room. Sentence after sentence, firmly focused on the words that appeared on the screen, her eyes moved away from the screen only when she did another part of her job; making the woman seated in front of her feel as comfortable as possible. Since she already offered coffee (which the woman refused), she smiled at her now and then. It was a warm, almost motherly gesture.

 _tap-tap-tap_

Shepard found herself imitating the sound, with the tip of her fingers on the wooden armchair. She had to find something to fight the boredom. And so between typing imaginary sentences on the hard surface and studying the secretary, she noticed a few little details that shed some light on the elderly woman's private life. And it was not fairly interesting; husband, children, grandchildren. A 'best mom in the whole world' mug on the edge of the table, stained with traces of tea after years of use. A wall on her right filled with children drawings (which seemed rather out of place), papers stacked in a huge but neat pile waiting to be dealt with. Record books on the shelves on the right wall, just by the door, sorted in alphabetic order. Shepard wished she had someone to deal with her papers, or at least to be as organized as the elderly lady in front of her, that's so vigorously pushed the buttons down, as if her job is the most important thing in the world, not giving much mind to the Captain in front of her, not noticing (or at least she pretended she didn't notice) how she almost mockingly, imitate her typing.

 _tap-tap-tap_

Figuring she won't find anything interesting about the secretary's private life, she gave up on profiling and let her mind wander back a few hours ago when she received the call to meet the Admiral.

She was on the field, evaluating the recruits for SF. Specifically, it was stalker training, for future Infiltrators. The goal is that the students successfully crawl to within 150 yards of the observers without being detected. Standing in the guard post on top of the small hill, Shepard scanned the field with her binoculars looking for any sign of movement in the forest below, when she heard the sound of someone walking behind her; small twigs breaking and leaves crunching under the weight of the visitor. She sighed. The arrival of the intruder this late in the day could mean only one thing; she will come home later then she thought. The leaves rustle once again as the Lance Corporal stopped and saluted.

"Captain Shepard, ma'am!"

Shepard didn't put her binoculars down, nor in any other way acknowledge that she heard the soldier. Focused on the bush about 300 yards away, she smiled and put down her binoculars saying to the fellow instructor sitting next to her.

"That bush," she pointed down.

The instructor stood up from his seat and looked at his map getting the exact location. He tapped his earpiece.

"Five steps forward, then two left."

The _walker,_ as they call them, followed the instruction and after the final step she stopped and waited for the final order.

"Check the bush in front of you."

The _walker_ poked slightly in the bush with her stick. The first two pokes hit the ground, but after the third one, she lifted her arm, confirming that the recruiter was found.

"Who is it?"

" _Martinez, sir,"_ she responded and the connection cut. Shepard, after hearing the name, shook her head. This is the second time he failed the exercise.

"Tell Martinez that his itchy nose will get him killed one day," Shepard said and walked away, Lance following close behind.

"So what is it, Lance?" she asked as she removed her cap just to wipe the sweat forming on her forehead. It was a hot day.

"A message from Admiral Westbrook, ma'am."

Shepard abruptly stopped and turned to the young soldier behind her.

"From the Admiral?" she asked, furrowing her brows.

Lance Corporal nodded, "For your eyes only. Ma'am."

Shepard stared at the datapad for a second before taking it from his hand. He walked away, giving Shepard some privacy as she read the content of the admiral's message.

* * *

And now, several hours later, she still couldn't fathom why the admiral called her. She knew it was nothing serious, or so she hoped so anyway. If it were, they would pull her from the field right away, or her superior would call her. Thankfully, after the long day, she didn't have to talk to her superior. Her superior was a dick who liked to stroke his ego by commanding her around. And the fact that he got his rank just because his parents are amongst the most influential politicians, made Shepard despise him even more.

She didn't hear a lot about Admiral Westbrook, but she knew he was popular among the grunts. And that tells a lot about the high ranking officer. Even though she knew little of him, just the things she read, but it was enough to evoke a spark of respect. For his actions in the First Contact War, he was highly decorated, but the rest of his career was somewhat quiet; fighting raiders and pirates, defending colonies on the outskirts of Alliance space. She knows he served in some capacity in the war against the Reapers, but she couldn't remember what exactly was his role. She didn't have time to dwell on it further as the door of the admiral's office opened, startling Shepard. She bolted from her seat, preparing to salute the admiral. But only half of his body emerged from the room, not giving Shepard a second glance.

"Lynda, hold my calls," he said to his secretary. The secretary, now known as Lynda, quickly replied. "Yes, Admiral." And with a soft smile, she led Shepard inside.

Just as Shepard stepped into the office, Lynda closed the door behind her, leaving Shepard alone with the admiral. Remembering that a higher rank officer is in front of her, she straightened her posture and saluted. Admiral half-heartedly saluted back and gestured towards one of the leather seats in front of his huge oak desk.

"Please sit, Captain."

At first, Shepard was a little bothered by the way he received her, but the tone of his voice somewhat eased her worry. It looked like he wants for this conversation to go as casual as the ranks between them allow. Shepard was not sure if that was a good thing.

"Thank you, sir," Shepard said and sat down. She quickly glanced down her uniform making sure there are no wrinkles or dust.

"Do you know why I called you, Captain?" Admiral asked, his back now turned towards Shepard. She couldn't see what he was doing, but the metallic click as he closed the small box gave her the answer.

"No, sir."

He sat down, lighting his cigar and as he was taking in the smoke he looked at her, his eyes narrowed as if he was studying a painting in the gallery. He had a thin mustache, his hair short, grey and neatly slicked back. It shined on the afternoon sun that passed through the large window.

' _He probably uses hair oil or something,'_ Shepard thought.

He let one more puff of smoke before he continued, "I will cut to the chase Shepard. And what I say, will stay between us I trust?"

"Of course, sir," Shepard responded.

"The Board of Admiralty is really interested in your future plans Captain."

"Sir?"

"Look, Shepard," he said as he put his cigar on the small ceramic ashtray with Alliance logo where it steadily produced a thin veil of smoke, filling the space between them. "I respect you so I will get straight to the point."

Shepard nodded and held her head a bit higher, waiting for the punch. What will happen? Will they send her back in combat? Will she be discharged?

"As you are aware, when we saved you a few years ago, from that pile of rubble, we had to invest a lot of money and resources to bring you back. There is no point in sugar coating it Shepard. With what we put into you, we could have saved a dozen of soldiers. Rebuild homes faster."  
Admiral played with his ring as he was saying this.

"But we didn't. And now, we want our money back. And you working as an Instructor, while helpful, it's not enough to pay off debt. It's not what the Board wants."

"That means back on the field."

Westbrook nodded. "You know what the situation is Shepard. Pirates are stronger now more than ever, Krogans are getting ambitious. Not to mention that the rest of the species are not happy with our expanding. It's not looking good."

"We have our diplomatic-"

Admiral waved her away.

"They contain the fire as much as they can. We need boots on the ground."

"I can't leave my kids behind admiral. The Board knows that."

"We do. And don't worry we don't plan to send you anywhere until your kids can attend some private school. Alliance paid, of course."

Shepard knew of these schools, prestige institutions where the children of wealthy and high ranking military personnel are educated when their parent do their own stuff. Shepard did a simple math; Mike and Addison are now nine years old, to be accepted they have to be at least eleven.

"So I have about two years," she said, more quietly then she wanted.

"At best, yes."

"And if I refuse?"

"You know the consequences, Shepard," he scoffed at her as he got up and walked towards the window.

"The consequences can be from discharged to court-martialed. What's in store for me?"

Admiral didn't answer right away. Instead, he stared through the window. Looking at something only he could see.

"Sometimes I look at our proud men and women serving, the common soldiers who are still bound by honor. And I feel disgusted with myself. I thought I could change something," he said, disappointment and regret in his tone.  
"But it is impossible. The higher you go, the deeper in shit you are. It is no longer military; it's politics. And in politics, they gather however small stone they can find and throw it at you. Hoping you will stumble."

He finally turned back to look at Shepard. "They have a lot of stones with your name on them. They can and will court-martial you, Shepard."

"I was cleared of everything-"

"It doesn't matter. Batarians want your blood, Dalatrass Linron is still holding a grudge, and she is making sure the Salarian Union does too. Asari… well, they only sent several diplomatic notes, but enough to make us know what they think about you still being in the Alliance. It looks like you have some friends in the Matriarchy," he said, giving her a knowing look.  
"To them, you are a big unknown. They know what you are capable of. And it scares the shit out of them." He concluded.

 _'Like I'm some kind of a monster.'_ Shepard almost said out loud.

"But, sir, wouldn't that anger them even more? No matter how much you keep it a secret, they will find out."

"The Admiralty is prepared to take that risk. If we back down to their every whim, they will take advantage of that. We can't show any weakness."

"What about the common people? They don't share the same view of me, maybe if-"

The admiral cut her off, "No, you are a hero to them, Shepard. But the civilians do not matter. They are numbers."

Shepard forgot her position for a split second and stood up, defiance in her voice, "There is power in numbers, _sir_."

Admiral stared at her for a moment, eying her down making Shepard remember who she was talking to. After she sat back down, he continued, "There is. When you have the power to wield them. You don't," his warm tone gone. "Take my advice, Shepard. When the wolves come, don't resist. They will shred you to pieces."

"Is that why you called me admiral? To make sure I don't resist becoming a tool to whatever agenda they have in mind?"

"As I said, Shepard, I respect you a lot. And after all you did, I think you at least deserve the heads up for the shitstorm that is coming," he sighed. "Look, Shepard, our leaders are idiots. Plain and simple. If they treated our soldiers like they are their own children, you can bet that there would be fewer wars. If any."

Once again he looked out of the window, watching the sky.  
"If they see them as living beings, and not just some numbers on a thin steel plate…" he shook his head before turning back to Shepard.

"You are not just some number Shepard. If I had any say, you would be retired, spending time with your little family. But I'm only one voice."

He reached for the folder on his desk and stared at it before handing it over to Shepard.

"Here are more details on what you should expect in the next few months. You will get the official order to go through medical. They will check your overall health and implants. Tinker something if there is a need. When you pass that, the next step is your biotic evaluation. Now, since you are not a natural, based on your performance, we will decide if it worth putting you through biotic training at all. I read the reports that you have crippling headaches after using biotics. Maybe that Cerberus implant is acting out? After that, you will go on several training missions with Team Delta. You will replace the current Captain, as he failed his medical. Because you have kids, we won't send you away-"

The Admiral kept talking, but Shepard started to dissociate herself away from the room and fixed her gaze outside, where a tiny leaf danced as the wind twirl him around on the ground. A few months ago, she was sure that Alliance was her priority. And that she wanted to go back in action. But that certainty crumbled with each new duty Admiral listed.

* * *

Alliance HQ or not, it was still a very ugly designed building, and every time Shepard stepped inside, she felt like a piece of her soul was taken away. She never managed to come and love the shape of it. From a distance, it looked like a factory. She remembered the first time she saw it, years ago, when she was merely an adult. Back then, it was intimidating but at the same time offering protection and hope for a better future.

She put her beret back on and swiftly adjusted it making sure it is properly on her head. Making her way towards her car, a soft breeze pushed the first autumn leaves across the hard concrete as she passed by.

As she reached her car, she noticed a scratch on the front door. Kneeling down, she traced the sharp edges with her finger. Some asshole probably parked too close to her and bumped her door. Or maybe someone scratched it on purpose. Wouldn't be the first time. The admiral just confirmed what she already knew. Not everyone is happy with her.

She sighed and unlocked the door. Sitting down, she threw her beret on the passenger's seat and taking a deep sigh; she rested her head against the seat. She thought about going on for a ride, instead of straight home. Her driving skills were debatable, but it didn't take much to drive on the old road in the countryside. Maybe she could make use of the free weekend and go on a trip, for a few hours. Just to rearrange her thoughts. Put them in their appropriate place. Figure things out. Maybe.

A few gentle taps on the window glass pulled her from her thoughts.

"Keller?" she said, surprised, recognizing the man standing outside her car. Quickly she lowered her side window, removing the thin obstacle between them. He took the opportunity to lean in.

"Hi there," he said, smiling at her.

"What are you doing here?"

"Stalking you across the parking lot. Apparently," he joked.

Kellar stepped aside giving her space as she opened the door and got out.

"I was lost in thought. Sorry," she said as the door closed behind her, making a soft click.

He waved her apology away, "Nothing new for you."

"I thought you were stationed on SSV Rubin," she tried to clear up her confusion.

"Just landed and went to sign some papers before heading to the bar with the crew. Then I saw you racing across the parking lot. Gotta say, Shepard, you walk really fast."

"Only when I have to run away from you," she continued the playful tone he started earlier. Even though he smiled, Shepard was sure that he caught the truth behind her joke. She should think more before talking.

"Yeah, well, now that I caught you," he took a step closer, "you owe me a drink."

"I can't. Not today at least. I have to pick up my kids. I'm already late," she took a glance at her watch. "Sorry."

Shepard could tell he was disappointed, even though he tried to hide it.  
"Don't worry about it."

He paused for a second, massaging his neck, "So how are they? Michael and Allison?"

"Addison," Shepard corrected him. "Growing up. Mike is still a little bit shy, but you know. He will probably grow out of it."

"I wouldn't worry about it in your place. I barely had any friends growing up-"

"Shocking."

Shepard's comment made him laugh. He didn't know a lot about her kids, just snippets she told him while they had those rare early morning talks. He wished to have a bigger part in her life beside occasional night spent together. He never believed in destiny, but after meeting her, he took solace in it. Maybe there is a reason for them not being together.

"I would like to meet them," he blurted. "If that's ok with you of course."

He could see Shepard is not too keen on the idea but to his great relief, she agreed.

"Give me a call when you find some free time. You know, just to catch up."

Shepard opened her mouth to say something, but Kellar quickly added, "No hidden agenda Shepard. Just coffee."

"Yeah, well, with you, a girl can never be too careful."

He stared at her for a moment before laughing.

"Me? I'm the image of the perfect gentleman," he put his hand over his chest.

"Too bad I'm not into gentle ones," she loved to tease him like this, to see his eyes lit in that particular little way.

"We really need to get that coffee, Shepard."

"And we will, but not today."

She winked at him and sat back in her car, turning it on. As she drives away, she could see in the rearview how he waved at her before lowering his hand and walked away. She should have sorted her priorities years ago.


	2. Welcome To The Game

"But you don't understand! You need to help me! Please! I love him!"

It took everything Liara had in her to suppress the groan threating to escape from her throat. So she took the pen from her table and twirled it with her fingers while keeping somewhat neutral expression; a challenging task after a long day. Luckily, this is the last meeting she had scheduled for today. Then she has to deal with some paperwork, and after that, she is heading home. Or maybe she could go in that nice restaurant-

 _'Oh! She stopped talking.'_

"Your distress is understandable miss. But, as I said, I can't give you any information about his whereabouts."

"Why not?" The woman across her was now red in cheeks, and Liara had to be careful. She has no time or the energy to deal with her drama.

"Because he is our client. Who specifically paid us to hide him," Liara pointed at her with her pen, "from you. So, as I said, I can't help you."

"I will pay double."

She opened her purse and took a small datapad from it. She looked up at Liara and so importantly said, "Name your price."

Liara sighed and interlaced her fingers, the pen sticking out.

"Miss, if I may give you some advice," Liara leaned slightly. "If you truly love him as you say you do, you would respect his wishes."

She stared at her, her mouth slightly opened but no sound came from her.

"Let him go," Liara repeated.

There was maybe a moment of silence and just when Liara thought she managed to change her mind, the woman stood up and snatched the purse from the chair next to her. Her cheeks were so puffed and red that Liara though they will explode.

"I'm not paying you for advice," the last word was more a mock than anything else. "That's my therapists' job. If you won't help, there are Information Brokers who will. But, just so you know, Doctor T'Soni," the woman snarled her name, "you will regret this."

And with that, she rushed out, slamming the door.

"That went well," Liara said to herself. She stood up and walked towards the window. It was a long day, and she still has a lot of paperwork to do, but she will take a few minutes before diving in the boring part of her job. Looking out the window, the last rays of daylight warmed her face. Taking a walk in a nearby park would be nice. Or just to stroll down the streets. As she was thinking how she could, but won't spend her afternoon, her console beeped alerting her of a new message. She held her breath as she opened the message, but quickly enough disappointment spiraled through her as her hope was crushed. It was just a message from her secretary for a reschedule of one of the meetings she had tomorrow. She was on the verge to tell her secretary to cancel the meeting. She despised bad time management, and she had a strict policy of 25 hour cancellation time. Instead, she stared at the list of the messages she received; double-checking Shepard didn't send anything.

There wasn't a day she didn't think of her. Sometimes something reminds her of her friend, and most of the time, it was some silly, small things. Like a particular color of the sky or commercial on tv, when she liked to imagine if Shepard would find it funny or foolish as much as she did. Sometimes she spends the whole day thinking about her. No matter what she does, no matter how busy her day is, Shepard always finds a way to slip into her thoughts. Shepard is like that.

It's been a month and a half since they last heard from each other. It was a long time, but to be fair it's is still short for Shepard's standards. Especially since they made such a breakthrough. Or Liara likes to think so anyway. Shepard is opening to her; she just needs time. Liara's fingers slightly reached her lips as little tingles race through them.

" _It's for the best_ ," she says to herself.

To take it slowly, to build their relationship in a way it deserves to be built. Both of them have fears to conquer, but Liara was a bit braver, and many times it led to frustration because she could see… No, feel that Shepard wants more. She even admitted that she wants Liara in her life. If only she could open to her, to finally say what is she so afraid of. Then they could work it out and…

Liara shook her head. She needs to be patient. She made her move, and now it's Shepard's turn. She has to wait and in the meantime, hope Shepard is doing alright. Maybe she could send a mail in a week or two, just to encourage communication between them. Or even call her if courage shouldn't fail her. Just to ask her how she is doing. Did Mike read the book Liara gave him? Is Addison still rebellious?

What would she give to hear her voice again? When they had that fight which resulted in them not speaking to each other for several years, Liara, while still missing Shepard, found it easier not to think about her. And when they met a few months ago here on Illium, the spark reignited. Funny how some distance can bring people closer.

She leaned against the table, letting herself get lost, imaging what Shepard is doing right now. Does she miss her as much as she misses Shepard?  
A familiar rhythm of knocks on the door pulled her from her thoughts.

"Come in," she said after she sat behind her desk, pretending she was doing important paperwork the whole time.

"Hey," Feron greeted her as he entered the room. "Busy?"

"Just finishing." she tried to mask her tiredness but Feron, perceptive as always, caught on it. He walked behind her and put his hand on her shoulder gently massaging it.

"Just a long day," she dragged the words as she put her hand on top of his, gently tapping it. Feron got the hint and stepped back after giving a final squeeze.

"So," he started, "is lady Mariene still a hopeless romantic?"

Liara laughed a bit.

"She stormed out. Saying I will regret not helping her."

Liara walked back to the window as Feron leaned against the table, crossing his arms.

"What love does to a person," he commented almost dreamlike.

"I'm not sure if it's love, obsession or possessiveness." She gave a quick glance to Feron before looking back down on the crowded street. "Some people don't know when to let go." She silently added after a small pause.

' _This could equally apply to you Liara_ ,' a voice told her.

Feron waited for her to continue, but when she didn't, he said, "I hope that wasn't aimed at me." He tried to pass it as a joke but failed miserably. Liara heard a trace of hurt in his voice.

"No, no! I was talking in general sense. I didn't mean to imply-"

Feron waved her off, giving a forced smile, "It doesn't matter."

"Feron," Liara tried once again, reaching for him, but he pushed himself off the desk and headed towards the door.

"It's alright. Just maybe, you should listen to your own advice, you know?"

Liara looked away, fighting the weight of his gaze on her.

"I wished it was that simple Feron," it was an honest confession, and Feron felt bad for her.

Liara sat back at her desk, making a barrier between them. At that moment, it was easier to count the keyboard buttons then to face him. She was ashamed.  
"I can't help myself. Because of my weakness, I hurt you in the process. That was never my intention. It was a mistake."

She wanted to apologize as she did before. As she did again and again, in moments like these when they address the past that so tightly followed them.

"I saw it as an opportunity for something more. For us to-," he stopped. He didn't dare to repeat what he said years ago. So he rather settled on a conclusion then to an opening. "It was not a mistake for me."

"Feron... we talked about this. Please, let's not complicate it any further."

He nodded. He will respect her wishes. As he always did.  
"I'm sorry I brought it up. Do you want to get something to drink? There is this bar just around the corner. I was there the other day with Benny. She said it might become our new favorite after-work bar."

"Did she now?" she teased him a bit. Benny, a talented agent that joined them a few months ago, had a crush on him for some time now. But it looks like Feron was oblivious to his colleague's feelings.

He smiled sweetly, "Come on. You need a break."

Liara wanted nothing more than to go home and take a good, long bath. But she couldn't say no to him. And who knows, maybe a night out is what she needs.

* * *

Sometime later, Liara finally turned off her computer. She gently massaged her stiff neck, losing herself in the instant relief. Throwing a quick glance at the clock, she rolled her eyes. Feron is waiting for good fifteen minutes now. Scolding herself, she quickly stood up and walked towards the door, only to stop midway. Groaning she turned back. She forgot her purse.

"What is wrong with you?" she muttered.

As she was looking for her purse, the sound of someone knocking on the door startled her. Who could be this late? A weird feeling filled her chest, but Liara didn't pause to analyze it. Instead, she prescribed it as another consequence of her workaholic nature. Letting out a rather loud sigh she reached for the door.

She immediately stepped back when from the other side welcomed her three tall figures, two of them had guns in their hands. The middle one, a turian, extend his arms as if he was greeting an old friend.  
"Doctor T'Soni!" he said cheerfully. "May I have a moment of your time?"

He took another step inside, as Liara retreated slowly backward in her office. Tiredness entirely vanished by adrenalin, her mind already forming a plan how to escape.

"I'm sorry, but you will have to arrange a meeting," she said, stalling as much as she could. "I'm a very busy woman."

Turian chuckled a bit, obviously impressed by her. His other victims probably showed fear or begged. This one stood her ground, and he liked a good challenge.  
"In that case, can I suggest some time off? My employer can provide you with a vacation," he clasped his hands and leaned a little closer to Liara. "What do you say?"

As she bumped into her desk, she knew that now she only has to wait for that perfect moment.  
 _Always wait for an opening Liara. An uncareful swing can be worse than doing nothing._ She once told her. _Don't panic._

"No thank you. I actually love my job."

He smirked and grabbed her wrist so hard she almost winced in pain.  
"Don't make this harder than it has to be," he growled, losing patience.

"It's more fun this way."

The turian didn't have time to react as Liara rotated her wrist towards his thumb, and pulling it out of his grasp. Focusing her biotics on her free arm, she sent him flying across the room. The ugly sound of bones breaking cracked across the room, and he laid motionless on the floor. Liara took the confusion of his henchmen as an opportunity and slammed them both in the wall. The hit wasn't as strong as the first one, but it was enough to incapacitate them for some time. Rushing toward the exit, she didn't count on the possibility that there were more of them. Massive, strong arms grabbed her from behind, stopping her. She struggled against her captor, but he was too strong. She couldn't fight against the krogan, and with her hands held tightly, it would take more for her to produce a strong enough biotic field to free herself. Another one approached them, and Liara noticed in horror that he held a syringe.

"Hold her still!" A muffled voice ordered through the helmet.

When he was close enough, Liara managed to kick him in the guts. He growled in rage as he stumbled back.

"Enough of this," irritated, the krogan slammed Liara against the wall, letting her fall to the floor, pinning her down with his heavy knee on her back. Liara thought her spine would break with the amount of pressure he was applying. She cried in pain and tried to gather her bearings. Suddenly, she felt a sharp needle going through the flesh on her thigh. She resisted, Goddess know she did, but it was stronger than her. It only took a few seconds.

The last thing she felt was how her eyes rolled in the back of her head before darkness consumed her.

* * *

Feron stood in the middle of the empty office. Except for Liara's purse and it's contents scattered on the floor in front of him, there was nothing else to indicate that something happened here. When Benny approached him, he was staring into space.

"Feron?" Benny tried to reach him.

He blinked a few times.

"Yeah?"

"Doc just called. The turian has a concussion and a few broken ribs, but he will survive. By her estimate, we will be able to talk to him soon enough."

Feron turned sharply and pointed the finger at her, "Tell her to make sure he is ready to talk as soon as possible. He is our only lead right now. Unless you found out something on the security cams?"  
She shook her head in response.

"It would be too easy," he whispered and rested his hands against Liara's desk, staring at the surface of it as if there would be an answer written down.

"We will save her, Feron."

He said nothing. What could he say? He knows he needs all the help he could get; he didn't have enough experienced agents to deal with something like this.  
"We can't do this alone," he finally said, pushing himself from the table.

"Mercenaries?" Benny reluctantly suggested.

"No, we need someone with a more _appropriate_ set of skills," he opened his omni-tool. "Someone we can trust."


	3. A Job For Me

The first thing she felt as she woke up, was a throbbing pain in her head. On reflex, she opened her eyes but quickly closed them as the bright light radiating from somewhere in front of her blinded her, making the pain so much worse she almost vomited. She took a few deep breaths, to simultaneously fight both dizziness and nausea. After a few seconds, or even minutes (she herself was not sure if she was conscious the whole time) the dizziness slowly disappeared and the urge to vomit with it. The pain was still there, but it was tolerable. Feeling better, even though her brain felt as if it was a big rock, she tried to get her bearings.

First, she tried to move her hands, but with every movement, the rough rope that bound her hands together burned the thin skin on her wrists. The legs were tied to the chair, tightly around her ankles. Fidgeting left and right, she tried to loosen the rope, but to no avail; it was as she was glued to the chair. While she thought what to do next, a realization hit her as fragments of memory rushed to the surface and it all played like a movie, from when Feron left to the sharp needle that pierced her skin just before she passed out. Everything up to this point that seemed normal, no matter how morbid that seemed, now felt terrifying as she gets accustomed to her new reality.

She was kidnapped.

Fueled by adrenaline and panic, she tried even harder to free herself, ignoring the burns she got on her skin. Suddenly, she could hear a door opening from somewhere slightly above her followed by the heavy set of footsteps, getting closer to her. Once again she opened her eyes, her vision painfully blurry, but she could discern forms which were now standing right in front of her.

"Doctor T'Soni," smallest of them spoke. "We were afraid you would never wake up."

"Who-" her attempt to ask a question was cut short as her dry throat protested, and she went into an uncontrollable coughing fit. Not a second later, he grabbed her just below the chin and lifted her head up as he forced a bottle to her lips. At first, she fought against it, fluid running down her chin. She calmed down when she realized it was cold water and allowed herself a sip or two.

"Who am I?" he finished her question while closing the bottle. "Did you forget me already?"

His voice sounded familiar but Liara couldn't remember where she heard it so she forced her head up, and blinked a few times to clear her vision. Finally, she could see his face and even though his features were half-hidden by the deep shadows, she recognized him. Liara in shock opened her mouth not being able to utter a single word.

When she did recover, she barely whispered, "You… It can't be."

His smiled at her as he did back on Earth, but now his eyes weren't soft and portraying naivety but rather a calculating mind.

"Nikolas," she finally managed to say his name, her voice carrying disgust and disbelief in equal measure. Anger filled her. But strangely enough, not at her kidnapper but at herself; how could she let herself be tricked so easily?  
 _  
'That's what you get when you let emotions take over.'  
_  
"You can call me that. It doesn't really matter anymore."

Liara shook her head, trying to make sense of it all.  
"But how… why?"

Her confusion made Nikolas chuckle.  
"You made a lot of enemies in this last few years Doctor. You should have seen it coming, no?"  
He kneeled down and continued, "We humans have a saying, 'don't bite off more than you can chew.' And you just kept going."

They hold each other's gaze for a moment, looking at each other in silence. Unable to hold the gaze, she was first to spoke.  
"So now what?" You are going to kill me, torture me?" She tried to look calm and composed, but she wasn't sure how convincing she managed to make it look.

"I'm not that kind of crazy," he said. "I'm more of a merchant you see,"

"A merchant?" Liara decided to play his verbal game. Anything to buy her some time.

"Yes," he pulled his sleeve, revealing a black tattoo. "Remember this? You almost got me at the docks. Thankfully, my charm drew your attention elsewhere." He smiled slyly.

Liara recognized the detailed tattoo spreading down his forearm. He is a member of a notorious band of criminals, specialized in kidnapping and selling their victims; from sex slaves to organ trafficking. They don't shy away from abducting children either. Liara's blood boiled.

"You kidnap and sale anything you can get your hands on! Even little children. What a great merchant you are."  
He kept smiling at her, and she realized that her words were a pathetic attempt at provocation.  
"Where am I to be sold?" She added.

Nikolas shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. You see, since you are such an interesting individual, we decide to put you on auction. The one who offers the most gets you. But!" he raised his finger in the air. "Don't be concerned. I'm very doubtful someone would pay millions of credits just to get you killed. And who knows? Maybe you will find something new about yourself in the process, and have some _fun_ ," he ran his finger across her jawline, and Liara jerked her head away. "Let's be honest, Liara, this current job doesn't really suit you."

"You are delusional if you think this plan of yours will work," she snapped at him.

"They said something similar when I suggest that you should be our next target. And it looks like I'm quite talented at what I do. But I must say, you did pose a challenge. We followed you for weeks. Tracking your every move. Then we figured the best way was to gain your trust. And who better for that then a handsome young guy like me?"

Liara scoffed in disgust, part of her angry because she did find him attractive back then.

"But you don't trust easily, do you? Every message I sent, you barely replied. So we decided to move in. And we would get you if it wasn't for that famous friend of yours. Shepard."

Nikolas gave her an odd look when she laughed.

"You couldn't get to me because you knew you had to deal with Shepard first."

"Just when we wanted to break into the house, Shepard appeared," he explained. "Do you know what she told us? She said that she will kill us the next time she sees us. What a charming woman, wouldn't you say?"

Liara gave a half smile, suddenly feeling very encouraged, "I would be very worried if I were in your place."

Nikolas kneeled down, putting a hand on Liara's knee.  
"You better pray that your friend travels fast," he opened his PDA and put it in her lap. She could only helplessly watch how offer after offer splashed next to her picture, each higher than the last.

* * *

"Maybe we should-," Mike started, trying to give advice to his struggling mother.

"Come on, Mike. I got this," Shepard said, trying to look confident. She can solve this.

"So, if we divide that by two...and then add this… There!" Shepard proudly exclaimed while underlining the final number. Throwing the pen on the table, she leaned back in her chair, putting her hands behind her head. She was helping Addison and Mike with the math problem for at least an hour now. She didn't think it would take this long, it was third-grader math, after all. But as she went through the problem, she realized it will take a bit longer.

"It's 29. Check the result, Addison," she said to her daughter who was holding a textbook in her hands. Addison filled with hope that this torture will end soon, she looked at the page and traced the soft surface with her finger. She abruptly stopped, and throwing her head back; she groaned, "It's not 29."

Mike who was seated across Shepard, hit his head down on the table. The will to proceed was shattered.

"Let me see," Shepard reached for the book, reasoning that Addison probably looked at the wrong number.  
"How?" she barely whispered, switching her gaze from book to piece of paper where they practiced, hoping that there is a time distortion and the numbers should align. They didn't. "Shit."

"That's five credits for the swear jar!" Mike pointed at his mother, passing judgment.

"Yeah, well," she got up and took the datapad from the counter. Swiping and clicking a few times. "Here's ten. Both of you have to go to college."

"I want to play soccer when I grow up," Addison said from her seat. Shepard didn't take her statement too seriously. This was a fourth or fifth change of her future career just this month.

"You can play soccer. Before, during and after college."

Addison pouted a bit, "What if I don't want to go?"

Shepard was trying to avoid any further discussion, so she ignored her question and sent both of them to the living room.

"Let's take a break. We have all weekend to deal with this."

And in Shepard's vocabulary, the whole weekend when used in this context, usually implies ignoring the homework until its Sunday afternoon and part of the evening.

Shepard cleaned the table and sat at the counter. When she was sure that both Mike and Addison are occupied with whatever program was on the television, she massaged her temples to ease a headache that was threatening to spread all across her skull.

A few days already passed since she talked with the Admiral. She knew that Alliance isn't done with her. Only a naive fool would think that. But she didn't expect it to be so soon. Her kids still need her. She had to grow up without a family. She can't let Mike and Addison share a similar fate.

She is loyal to Alliance; there is no question about it. And not a few months ago, she wanted nothing more then go back into action. She became who she is in battle, and she carves for action and adrenaline. It is like a drug. She's not sure she even knows how to live an ordinary life, let alone how to be a good mother. That part Alliance didn't teach her.

But recently, something shifted inside her, and slowly, she started to realize that no mission can help fill the spreading gap inside her. At this point, she wasn't sure if anything could. She sighed. All this thinking made her headache even worse. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she tried to release some tension. If she had to be honest with herself, her need for action, no matter how strong, was slowly fading and it felt like it was being replaced with something... calm? Her hand slides down to her cheek, where her fingers gently traced her scars before she entirely rested her head on her hand.

Somewhere deep inside she had a feeling what made her look at life differently, but she kept blocking it from coming on the surface. Avoiding thinking about it made her feel safer. Shepard wished she could crush it like a bug.

Groaning, she stood up walked to the cabinet where she left the pills earlier today. If she took them earlier, she wouldn't have to deal with the pain throbbing through her eye sockets. Just as she opened the small container, her omni-tool slightly vibrated. Rolling her eyes, she put down the pills and silently prayed the call isn't work-related.

As the screen flickered in front of her face, Shepard furrowed her brows. The caller ID was hidden, showing what looked like a random sequence of numbers and letters. She walked upstairs as quickly as she could without alarming Mike and Addison who were in some heated argument about aliens.

Entering her bedroom, she closed the door behind her and let her finger hesitantly hover over the screen before finally accepting the call. At first, there was nothing but static, but soon enough it cleared, and the voice came through. Loud and clear.

 _"Shepard,"_ it said, and for a moment Shepard couldn't recognize who was on the other side of the took her a moment, but the face align perfectly with the voice, and she recognized the man.

"Feron?" she asked, surprised.

A faint sound of Feron clearing his throat came through before he spoke again, _"Yes."_ He simply confirmed. He sounded weird, or maybe after all these years, she forgot how he sounded like.

"This is a surprise," Shepard commented nonchalantly, not really sure what to say.

Feron didn't respond immediately, but Shepard could hear a faint sound like he was was sitting down. Or standing up.

"Feron?" Shepard tried once again, and this time he answered, his voice strained.

 _"It's about Liara."_

"Liara…" her name escaped her lips in the form of a whisper, and her cheeks flushed. "Is everything alright?"

 _"She was kidnaped."_

His words punched her in the stomach. Her chest grew heavy and her heart slammed against it, with every beat the world seemed to spin faster. Her knees trembled, and if she didn't sit down, she might faint. Falling on the edge of her bed, she wiped the cold sweat she felt forming on her forehead.

 _"Shepard? Are you there?"_

"Yeah, I'm just… What happened? Do you know who-"

 _"We have some leads,"_ he quickly interrupted. _"Listen, Shepard. I know you and Liara had some issues…"_

Shepard winced a bit, tightly closing her eyes for a second, to soften what she interpreted as an accusation.

 _"But despite that, I hoped..."_ he took a deep sigh, before continuing in a tone that sounded like he begged for Shepard to understand. _"This is Liara, Shepard. Can I count on you?"_

Shepard gritted her teeth and her knuckles went white from how hard she hold the edge of the bed.  
It doesn't matter if things between them are complicated or straightforward; Liara is her friend and Shepard will do anything to help her.  
Because a galaxy without Liara in it was not a place worth much.

"I'm on my way."


	4. Doubts and Regrets

_A/N: I forgot to mention that English is not my native language, so if some sentences sound weird or something it's not because of lack of trying. But I'm trying to get better at it._

 _Thank you for reading and special thanks for the follows/favs. It means a lot._

* * *

They traveled for maybe two hours, but it was enough for Shepard. The nervous itch inside her was getting bigger and more uncomfortable, and she was having trouble fighting it.

Her thoughts were held hostage by the prospect of what could happen and every possible scenario played out; like in cinema, the tape rolled back to the beginning immediately after ending.

She should ask Kellar how long will it take them to reach Illium, maybe it will help ease this agony. It's true what they say, doing nothing, being still was one of the hardest things to do. Feron told her that if he finds out anything new he will contact her immediately. Still, she had to fight the urge to call him every five minutes. She knows that constant calling and bothering him would do no good. He is probably as worried as she is. She only hopes she will be there in time. Her only wish is to get Liara back. A nice bonus would be to personally deal with whoever took Liara away. She will make sure to teach them a lesson they will never forget.

She is getting angry again, and that can only be a potentially dangerous liability. Maybe this few hours of traveling will help her cool down, and relax. The last few hours are in a blur; after she talked with Feron, she took only a moment more, sitting on her bed letting her mind race. She quickly made several options in her head how to reach Illium. The most desperate one included stealing a ship. Luckily, she decided to call Miranda first.

It's not a big secret that Shepard had issues with the now reformed Cerberus. Cerberus who is under tight Alliance control. The official version of the story, the one Alliance so lovely likes to sell, is that Cerberus had researchers and technology far advanced from their own, and only working together could they decipher Reaper technology faster, building a better future for humanity. And so, with each rebuilt home or reunited family, people forgot more about Cerberus past misdeeds. Perhaps saying that their past is forgotten is far stretched. Maybe stuffed somewhere in the back of the public mind, brought to light every now and then by some ambitious young journalist, only to be soon be placed back, as people move on with their lives. Besides, how could an organization that brought Commander Shepard back be evil?

But Shepard knew for a fact that there is more going on then meets the eye. Cerberus may be less radical and under tight control, but some research that is done is just on the edge of being ethical. Shepard told herself that she doesn't care. Why waste time on something she can't change? Admiral forgot to mention that it wasn't just Shepard aliens have a problem with. Shepard was just a tool.

To distract herself from thinking too much, and to drown the rising feeling of betrayal, she studied the control panel of the ship. Opening the console she read about the ship's specifics; a prototype built for the Alliance, and will probably replace the old models in the Navy by the end of the next year. Small and fast and just what Shepard needs to quickly reach Illium. When this is all over, she must find a way to thank Miranda. Not only was she sticking her neck out (even though she assured Shepard that the flight can pass as a test one and not to worry), she also helped a lot with the kids. Even on a short notice, like in this case, she had no problem babysitting. Miranda loved them like they are her own and they loved her back. Shepard would lie if she said she wasn't bothered by that. There were moments where she felt like Miranda was alienating the children from her. Shepard knew that wasn't true, but any sign of potential abandonment made Shepard paranoid.

She turned off the console and unbuckling her seat belt, headed towards the back of the small ship. She will try to distract herself with gun cleaning. Taking out her gun from one of the cases, she looked around for the best place where she can dismantle it. The passenger's seat is too small and would be awkward so she sat down on the floor.

"When you told me it's going to be exciting, I had a very different thing in mind."  
Kellar's voice rang from the pilot seat. Shepard raised a brow at him before saying, "I thought you would be happy being one of the first Alliance pilots to test next-gen ship."

"Well, it is _nice,_ " he said as his fingers danced across the control panel, exploring the ship's capabilities. "But I'm still disappointed."  
He quickly turned to give her a small wink.

"You know what they say, don't expect anything and you won't be disappointed."

His eyes followed her hands as she removed parts of the gun, neatly arranging them in front of her.

"Hm," Kellar murmured, and for a minute he stared out through the cockpit looking as they race through the black space. "If I have to be honest, I'm kinda glad you called me."

"How come?"

He shrugged his shoulders, and instead of answering he gave her a chance to open up. He didn't have to wait long before Shepard started talking.

"I need someone I can trust. Besides, the situation can change by the hour. If we will be in need of a pilot, I would rather have you on the seat."

"Keep talking, and you will make me blush," he smiled slyly, and Shepard rolled her eyes.

"That friend of yours offered you help," he continued with a more serious tone. "Shit, you could have a mini-invasion on Illium now. Instead, you settled with little ol' me. Are you sure this is the best route you can take?"

As he talked, Shepard stood up and reached for the cleaning kit that was stuffed somewhere with the armor and weapons. Moving the crates from one place to another until she found it. She sat back down and started cleaning the slide of the gun, answering with a sharp tone.

"You really think Illium would let us in? With the current relationship between us and the aliens, we would be lucky if they didn't shoot us on sight."  
She put the slider down and reached for the barrel, scrubbing its surface gently at first, but with each word, the strokes got harsher.

"I talked to Feron, he's the guy Liara works with by the way," she explained, "and he can easily smuggle one small ship then the half of the flotilla. We need to do this carefully. It's her life at stake and- shit!"

The barrel fell from her hands and rolled towards Kellar, where it stopped as it hit his boot. He reached down for it and gave it back to Shepard. He took the opportunity to sit in one of the passenger's seats, opposite of her.

"But the thing I don't get," he started carefully studying her face with curiosity. "Why don't call the police?"

"I get that you never been to Illium?" she looked up, and as he shook his head, she continued. "There is no law there. At least not the same as on Earth. Money rules there. It wouldn't surprise me that whoever took Liara has bribed the law enforcement to look away."

Kellar noticed how Shepard's tone changed on mentioning her friends' name, but he didn't comment on that.  
"And how is that different from Earth? Credits rule everywhere."

"Yes, but, we at least have an illusion of justice. Did you hear about that singer who was accused of harassment? He spent, what? Two weeks in minimum security prison and later he issued an apology, blamed it on his difficult childhood and the weight of being famous and bang!" Shepard imitated a gun with her hand. "Public forgive him. Why? Because he had a perfect redemption story. He will visit children's hospitals, donate some money and in a year everything will be forgotten. On Illium, you at least don't have to pretend you are sorry. You buy your freedom out."

"So, we can buy everything but justice?"

"Kellar, there is no justice in the world." She noticed he made a slight tic he always does when he becomes irritated. He probably feels like she was lecturing him like a child.

"That's a grim way to look at it," he muttered.

"It's the realistic way to look at it, " Shepard corrected him.

"Maybe, but realism wasn't what kept us going during the war. It was hope." he cleared his throat. "Love, even."

"Hopeless romantic," as soon as the words escaped her mouth, she remembered EDI and all the things she told her. As much as she was mocking him, she mocked herself more, reminding herself how much a hypocrite she really is.

"Is that something bad?"

"Not for you maybe, but for me," she abruptly stood up with an assembled gun in her hand, studying it from all angles. "I prefer my feet firmly on the ground."

Kellar stood up as well.

"So you don't hope to save your friend?" Shepard turned sharply to him, eyes filled with rage. "Your words!" he defended himself.

"I don't know why we are having this conversation."

"Yeah," he walked back to his pilot seat, turning the autopilot off and taking control of the ship. "You were never for too much talking anyway."

"Kellar, I didn't call you to lecture me about relationships. So if you plan to act like this the whole time, you better find a bar and sulk there until I do what I have to. I don't have time to argue with you just because your feelings got hurt."

"Oh, so now there were feelings," he snapped back. "Because the last I remembered, you were the one who insisted on the no-feelings thing. You can't even make up your mind on what you want."

That hurt Shepard more then she would ever admit.

"You knew what you were going into; I was clear about that. I never said there was future for us," she slumped back in the seat, putting the gun beside her. She pinched her nose bridge, trying to calm down.

"It is entirely your fault for expecting something out of nothing."

"Whatever Shepard," he threw up his hands, ending the argument.

There was silence for some time before Shepard spoke again, "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that."

"No, I didn't."

Another strained silence, and this time Kellar broke it.  
"Look, Shepard," he started, "let's focus on getting your friend back. The past can wait."

"I'm sorry Kellar. I mean it," she offered an apology even though she didn't feel like giving one.

Kellar finally turned around to give a quick glance at her, as if he was trying to find any truth behind her words.  
"I know. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry too. It was selfish of me to start talking about it now when you have other things to worry about," he paused for a moment, before continuing. "You need a friend right now. And I can be that."

Shepard didn't say anything; she just stared into space. She can't make anything right without hurting others in the process. The doubt started to rise in her.  
 _'What if I can't save her?'_

It would have consumed her if it wasn't for Kellar's joking nature that pulled her out.  
"You know," he said, smiling, "we have a few hours alone…"

Shepard tried to keep a straight face but failed miserably.  
"Eyes front, Kellar."

* * *

Liara squirmed in her seat. She wasn't sure how much time passed, but it must be a few hours at least. Her body ached from the lack of movement; her skin was irritated to the point where she could feel where it broke from the constant pressure of the rope or whatever was that held her so tightly against this chair.

And the worst of it, she was in complete darkness. Before they left, Nikolas threw some kind of sack on her head concealing her vision. Without any visual information, her mind was, for most of the part, preoccupied with planning an escape. There was one moment where her determination shattered, as she let cold hard facts tell her that getting out of this is nearly impossible.

Overwhelmed, she tried to find solace in fond memories, but it showed a trap, an abyss where regrets feast on her energy, draining her of little hope that she has left. Her eyes burnt and throat clenched as she was fighting tears that threaten to escape. In those moments she was once again nothing more than a cowardly scientist who needs help, who needs Shepard to save her.

Only, this time, Shepard isn't here to save her and the fact that Shepard in all probability doesn't even know, made Liara even lonelier.  
Before she could stop it, a thought passed through her mind, _'And I never told her-'_

Suddenly something clicked inside her head, purpose filled her, and she managed to leave memories and what-ifs behind, focusing on the future.  
She isn't a scared scientist who needs her hand held, she is much stronger than that, and she will not let them win. Even if it kills her.

There is no way she could even think about her chances of running away with this bag on her head. She couldn't see anything, but she knew she wasn't alone in the room. She could hear noises coming from the corner of the room. And sometimes, even a few footsteps before stopping and settling down.

It must be one of the guards she saw when she first woke up. An idea was growing in her head ever since they left her here. The guard never said anything but Liara could feel his eyes traveling all over her body. Looks like self-consciousness that made her social interaction so much harder, will finally come in handy. His lust may be her way out of here.

And the first step in achieving her goal is to get the guard on her side to persuade him to remove this sack from her head. It's a long shot, but it's the only one she got.

She cleared her throat, and innocently said, "Hello, is anyone there?"

She was welcomed by the silence, so she tried again, now making her voice tremble a bit, making it look like she was on the verge of crying.

"Please, I just want some water."

There was no response, but Liara could feel his attention was on her. Finally, she heard him standing up and her heart beat faster as the footsteps come closer. For a split second, she feared he might hit her but instead he grabbed the tip of the sack and with a swift pull, the rough cloth was removed from her head, allowing her to take a breath of fresh air. Once again, the light blinded her. She tried to open her eyes but it was too painful.

"Drink," he ordered.

"Please, just give me a second... my eyes... it hurts so much…" she spoke, lowering her voice even more.

What happened next, Liara couldn't imagine in her wildest dreams; the batarian walked away from her, and turned the lamp further away from her, so it was not directly hitting her face. She blinked a few times before being able to properly look at him. He had soft facial features and a gentle look in his eyes. A complete opposite of how someone who kidnaps people looks like. Liara was not an expert in batarian physiology but he looked very young.

"Thank you," she said looking him into his eyes, making sure he knows that her gratitude is sincere.

He cleared his throat, "Drink."

He approached the glass closer to her lips and she took a sip. She didn't know how thirsty she was until cold water touched her dry lips. When she had enough, he placed the glass on the small table and reached for the sack. Just as he wanted to put it back on her head she stopped him.

"Please!" she yelled a little louder then she meant to. He held the sack above her head studying her.

"Please, don't put it back. I... I'm scared and lonely... please…" her voice trembled and she managed to produce a single tear. The batarian shifted on his feet. He looked conflicted. By his actions, Liara figured he was inexperienced. And in all probability, this is his first job of this kind. Her chances of getting away may be bigger than she initially thought.

"Look if the boss comes down we are both in trouble."

"He won't know!" Liara tried to assure him. "As soon as we hear the footsteps or anything, put it back. Just... I don't want to be alone."

That was the final wall Liara had to break. The batarian put the sack on her lap. Pointing the finger at her, he warned, "If you try anything..."  
He didn't need to finish for Liara to understand. So she quickly nodded, and he went back and sat on the old couch taking his datapad.

Liara smiled a bit as he stared at the screen.

 _'Strike one.'  
_

* * *

"Finally," Kellar let an exhausted sigh, unbuckling his seatbelt. "I thought they would never let us in."

"That's Illium for you," Shepard said as she adjusted her leg holster. "I bet Feron had to cough a lot of credits to convince Illium officials to let us in."

"Do you think they know who we are?"

"I don't know," she simply answered. "Come, let's not lose any more time than we have to."

Kellar hit the switch near the door making it slid open. Fresh air hit them, making Shepard's hair slightly waver. She tucked the more rebellious strands behind her ear and just as she was ready to get out when she felt Kellar's eyes on her.

"What?" she asked, irritated. She knows that look, and that's the last thing she needs right now.

"Nothing," he finally said, and Shepard got out, with Kellar following slightly behind.

It didn't take long for Shepard to notice two aliens waiting for them on the docks. The asari approached them while the krogan kept his distance, his hands folded across his chest. Shepard didn't miss the Claymore holstered on his back.

"Welcome to Illium Captain Shepard!"  
The asari welcomed them.

"Hi, but please, just Shepard. I believe Feron told you about my friend?" she indicated towards Kellar.

"Of course!" she offered her hand to both of them. "We can use any help we can get. Oh, and by the way, this is Sil. My fellow agent."  
Krogan nodded politely but said nothing.

"Alright, no time to lose we have a car waiting for us."

Shepard interrupted her, "We have some stuff left on the ship-"

"Don't worry about that, Sil will bring them to the apartments. He can take that gun too."  
Asari pointed at the gun holstered on Shepard's leg.

"No thanks," Shepard tapped the grip. "This one stays with me."

Asari shrugged her shoulders, "Suit yourself."

True to her words a car was not more than a few feet away. Asari hopped into the driver's seat and just as Shepard and Kellar sit in the back seats, they were off.

"You mentioned something about that you need all the help you can get. Is the situation that bad?"  
Kellar asked before Shepard could.

"Our only lead is a severely injured turian. But we are making progress. Don't worry, Feron will fill you in at the office."

"Office? I thought we were going to Liara s apartment," Shepard asked, suspicious of the sudden change of plan.

"We must pick up someone first. You are not the only one arriving to help," asari said matter-of-factly.  
Shepard didn't have time to ask what who else is coming because the asari turned to them, and with a smile said, "And by the way, I'm Benny."


	5. Old Acquaintance

The office was located in a somewhat secluded part of the city. When Shepard had those fantasies about Liara and her everyday life, she imagined her workplace to be more upfront. But it made sense from a business perspective. No one likes their dirty laundry dragged around. Not even on Illium.

As they walked down the corridor to the office where Feron is supposedly waiting, Benny explained to them how they make sure that every meeting is at least half an hour apart so the clients won't accidentally bump into each other.  
"Privacy is our biggest concern," she said.

Shepard didn't care much for her small talk. Kellar, on the other hand, continued to ask questions and Benny happily answered them. Amidst the noise of their voices, she zoned out, her thoughts preoccupied with the whole situation and what is their next step. And that largely depends on what Feron will tell them. Not having every piece of information made Shepard uneasy. More so because she didn't know why Feron kept things from her. She couldn't help but feel suspicious of everyone and everything. Maybe he is involved? But that didn't make any sense. For what Liara told her, Feron was her good friend. Shepard had a feeling he was that secret crush Liara talked about back on Earth. No matter how much Liara denied it. A cold sensation formed inside her and hot flushes spread to her face. She had to mentally slap herself to prevent the little voice from inside her mind tell her why she was feeling this way.

Finally, they reached the office, and Benny knocked a few times, and without waiting for a response, she opened the door and let Shepard enter first, with Kellar following closely behind.

They were welcomed by a drell standing behind, what Shepard imagined was Liara's desk. As Benny closed the door, leaving them alone, he slowly offered a smile, not quite reaching his eyes.

"Shepard."

"Feron."

Shepard greeted back, and they fell in the silence for a second or two, in which neither moved, but both studied each other as if they didn't know what they should say or do. Shepard had a feeling like she was under some non-verbal interrogation. She noticed that he changed a lot in the last ten years. His colors faded and he looked tired. But the mischievous twinkle in his eyes was still there although not as intense. She couldn't help but notice his muscular body as he stood straight with hands clasped behind his back. She could see what Liara sees in him. He was handsome. For a drell anyway. A feeling from earlier made its return, but it was easier for Shepard to ignore it. There are more important things to focus on.

Finally, he approached her and offered his hand.

"It's good to see you Shepard," his applied a little more pressure than necessary on Shepard's hand. "Although I wished the circumstances were better."

"Feron, this is Kellar. Alliance pilot and my good friend."

"Of course," he offered his hand to Kellar as well. "Thank you for coming."

"Any friend of Shepard is a friend of mine."

Feron gave a quick nod but said nothing.

Whishing to leave the pleasantries as fast as possible, Shepard asked, "What can you tell me Feron? Do you have any leads?"  
The drell let out a heavy sigh and turned towards the table behind him reaching for datapad and handing it over to Shepard.

He talked as the recordings of the security cameras played on the small screen.

"As you will see we can't get anything from the cams. They all wear masks, voice changers. The armor is not custom made. You could easily get it from the markets below. Or from any part of the galaxy for that matter."

Shepard half listened to him as she watched the recording. Her focus was on the blue alien, fighting to escape.

"Of course, I still have agents looking at it, but I doubt we will find anything useful."

Shepard in her anger almost asked him why they didn't have more tight security, but she bit the inside of her cheek instead.  
Handing the datapad to Kellar to watch, she asked, "Your agent, Benny... she mentioned a turian. I gather it's the one Liara smacked against the wall?"

Feron smirked.

"Thankfully Liara didn't kill him. She bruised him badly, but as soon as he is patched up, we can interrogate him."

Shepard nodded and turned away from him, taking a look around the room, trying to find any evidence that could lead her closer to Liara's captors. Kellar's voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"Do you know why? Why did they take her?"

"We can't be sure. In our line of work-"

"In your line of work," Shepard interrupted, her voice so calm it was unsettling, "You make sure something like this doesn't happen."

She turned slowly, and when she faced him, her face was indifferent, like they talked about the weather, but her eyes revealing the accusation behind her words. But Feron will not be intimidated, and he walked closer to Shepard, stopping just so to keep some distance between them.

"There were talks about upgrading our security. In fact, I was the one that suggested it two years ago. Liara was the one who didn't agree with it. I trusted she was capable of making decisions for herself."

Shepard didn't break eye contact, but she could feel Kellar's stare on both of them.

"Obviously she was wrong."

Feron took another step closer, "You know Shepard, there are people who don't doubt every single decision she makes."

Shepard crossed her arms and sneered at the drell in front of her.

"And look how far it got her," she scoffed at him. "Maybe those people should take the blame too."

"Maybe they should," Feron said in a tone to make sure Shepard didn't miss the double meaning behind it. It made Shepard stop for a moment, as that awful feeling of responsibility rushed through her.

Kellar cleared his throat and came between them, but closer to Shepard.

"Shepard," he said, trying to lower the tension that was dangerously reaching its boiling point. "Come on."

Shepard glared at Kellar, and just as she wanted to tell him to mind his own business, a few knocks interrupted her.  
The door opened, and there was Benny again.  
"Feron," she said. "The Matriarch just arrived. Should I tell her to-"

"Move!" a raspy voice came from somewhere outside, and not a moment later it was followed by an older asari barging in the room, pushing the younger one so hard she stumbled. She would have fallen down wasn't it for the door she caught on for support. Benny wanted to say something but was quickly silenced by the glare of one of the loyal henchmen, following the old Matriarch. Benny gave up from protesting and silently left the room, closing the door a little louder the necessary.

Shepard felt uneasy by the sudden appearance of the old acquaintance, so she switched her attention to the two guards. After a few quick glances, she concluded they must be part of some mercenary group or something similar, but the paint they wore on their shoulder pads were not familiar to her. She didn't have a chance to look at them furtherly. The growly voice cringed through the room, forcing Shepard to finally straighten up from the slumped posture she unconsciously fallen into since the old asari entered the room.

"What the hell is this, Feron?" the old asari asked, glaring at Shepard.

"Matriarch Aethyta," Shepard offered her hand, in hopes of easing the awkward start. But by the look Aethyta gave to her extended hand, Shepard had a feeling she won't have an arm if she didn't remove it from the asari's line of sight.

"We need all the help we can get," Feron said, a trace of warning in his voice.

"And that help," Aethyta turned towards Shepard, eying her from the ground up, "is this piece of scrap metal?"

"Hey!" Kellar stepped from somewhere behind Shepard, where he was, until now, silently listened to this whole ordeal. "You are talking to Alliance officer! Show respect."

Shepard knew he used her rank and camaraderie to mask the real reason why is he acting protective.  
He knew how much Shepard is bothered by her implants, and it annoyed her; not only it was a very private matter, it was something Shepard rarely if ever, shared. Edward tried to ask once or twice, but he gave up quickly. He understood that Shepard is a thick wall to break and even in trying to do so would do more harm than good. That was a complete opposite of how Kellar acted. Shepard told him again and again to mind his own business, but it was not enough to stop him. He didn't push, but he also didn't give up from reaching to her. The switched roles confused her.

"Respect? In my world, respect has to be earned, _boy,_ " Aethyta scoffed.

Kellar clenched his jaw, but before he had a chance to say something back, Shepard tried to steer the conversation back to calmer waters. Fighting among them isn't helping Liara. She looked to where Feron retreated, behind the table looking down as if he had a pile of paperwork to do and didn't know where to begin. He was staying out of this and Shepard couldn't say she blamed him.

"This is Captain Kellar and-"

"My, so many captains here. Does this one know how to shot?"

"He is an Alliance pilot," Shepard said as if that should answer Aethyta's question.

"So the answer is no."

She wasn't impressed by him being a pilot, and her answer made one of the younger asari smirked, but Shepard ignored them and continued, "He offered to help, and his skills could be useful."

"And what kind of skills could that be? We don't need a cab driver."

Shepard opened her mouth, but Kellar was faster.

"A skill where I can extract your bitter blue ass before it bleeds out!"

Aethyta gave a half-smile, and if Shepard didn't know better, she would say she almost looks impressed.

"I will wait outside Shepard," he said and went out, but not before he bumped his shoulder into the asari who smirked just a minute ago. Shepard would lie if she said that tiny act of defiance didn't make her feel a little bit satisfied.

"I trust him, and as Feron said, we can use all the help we can get."

"Oh, I don't have a problem with him," Shepard crossed her arms over her chest as the Matriarch made a step forward. "He says what he thinks," Aethyta pointed at her forehead. "Unlike someone else here."

"And let me guess, that _someone else_ is me?"

"It's good to know Cerberus wired your brain correctly."

"Look, I don't know what your problem is, and frankly, I don't care. My first and foremost priority is Liara's well being."

"So is mine. But we have a little problem here _Commander_ ," she emphasizes the title, mocking it. "I don't trust you. And I can't put my daughter's life in the hands of someone I don't trust."

The statement caught Shepard out of guard. They worked together in the war, but they were never close to friendship. But still, not trusting her felt too harsh. And the only reason Shepard could think of for not trusting her might be her past with Cerberus; the comments earlier indicate that as well. Just as soon she wanted to assure her that Cerberus is not an issue, at least not this one, the door opened. It was Benny again.

"Feron, " she gave a weary look across the room studying the trio, " the doctor gave the all-clear for the turian. He can talk."

Feron, for the first time, looked up from his table.

"Thanks," he simply answered, and Benny nodded leaving the door open. As he passed the duo, he said, "You can continue this later. Let's go."

* * *

As the skycar flew towards its destination, Shepard watched through the window as they maneuvered through the buildings so thickly placed next to each other; so much in fact that the space between them was barely visible. Flashing commercials on almost each one of them. Businesses that would never pass on Earth or any other planet for that matter, here are more than acceptable; prostitution, weapons, drugs

It was simple on Illium; you want something, you pay for it. Nobody will judge or exclude you from the society just because you felt lonely last night, or your job is so stressful you need some good chemical to balance the ones in your brain. Among those commercial which Shepard could somewhat swallow, were also the slave agencies. A few years back, it would make her sick in her stomach, but now, she felt nothing.

It is not her problem anymore. At least she likes to tell herself that as she watches the news about more frequent killings across the galaxy, a consequence of growing tension kindled by her decisions. She wards off the little voice in her head saying that it is her problem. She had caused it. Closing her eyes and shaking her head, she tries to clear it from intrusive thoughts. She looked at her side where Kellar was seated. She couldn't see his face, but by the way he moved his head every time they passed a more _delicate_ commercial, Shepard could tell he wasn't used to this kind of life. Who said to her that Illium was Omega but just with better tiles? Was it Thane? She couldn't remember.

She looked at Feron who was in the front seat with Benny whispering among themselves as Benny showed him something on the datapad. Shepard wanted to ask what was it about but quickly decided against it as Benny stopped whispering with Feron nodding to whatever Benny said to him. Shepard let out a sigh and turned her attention back to the glowing buildings and racing cars outside. Letting herself once again be lost in thought. Why would Liara like it here? It has elegance, but that elegance has razor sharp edges. The whole theme didn't fit in how Shepard saw Liara; smart, kind. Beautiful. She liked to imagine her in a library researching some ancient text, on some dig site with her face full of dust as she triumphantly lifts an ancient relic in the air or even as a professor on some prestigious university, sharing her knowledge. Anything instead of this shit; weapons, drugs, slaves, prostitutes-

The last image left a bitter taste in her mouth. She bit her knuckles to relieve the tension crushing her lungs. Maybe Liara wants to help the ones in need of help? Perhaps, she wants to make the galaxy a better place for everyone, in her own way. There must be a reason for someone like Liara to want to live here. Hell, if Shepard had to choose she would rather be on Omega. There at least, air isn't heavy with the stench of hypocrisy. But here? Fuck this. She will ask Liara-

Shepard paused. Her thoughts hit a brick wall, and pain emerged from her stomach. Liara is not here. Liara is not free. Someone took her. That someone could hurt her, kill her, sell her-

Not able to keep it inside her any longer she almost hit the window and the reflection it showed. But she stopped herself at the last moment, satisfying herself with grabbing her knee as tightly as she can. As she tried to focus on the growing pressure her fingers put, suddenly she felt a large hand on top of hers. Its warmth relaxed her, and she looked to the owner of the hand now leaned close enough so he could ask his question without attracting attention from the front seat.

"Are you alright?" he asked, softly passing his thumb over the knuckles she bite a minute ago.

Shepard removed her hand as if she was burnt by that question, and Kellar retreated his hand.  
"I'm fine," Shepard answered sharply, hoping it will repel any further attempts at comforting her.

"Your friend… we will get her." he offered, trying to assure her.

Shepard said nothing and turned her gaze back to the window. She ignored the blinding lights, and instead focused on her reflection.

 _We have to. Otherwise, I couldn't live with myself.  
_

* * *

After ten more minutes, the skycar made a sharp right turn and then jolted upwards.

"Her apartment is on one of the top floors. It will be easier to reach from the roof," Feron said, answering the both Shepard and Keller's surprised looks.

With a slight thump, they landed and exited the skycar. Aethyta with her gang was already there, with her back turned on them. She was smoking a cigarette as she was watching the streets below. Shepard wondered what she was looking at, as from this height, the streets were covered in dark, save from skycars that looked like small fireflies.

"Took you long enough," she flipped the cigarette away, and a second later not even the ember could have be seen in the dark below.

Benny went to the door leading into the building, and she typed some kind of code, and after confirming their identity over the comms, the door opened. Feron approached Aethyta in the meantime.

"Safety precautions. Shall we?" he extended his hands towards the door and the Matriarch marched in. This time, Benny was sure to give her enough space.

It didn't take them long to reach Liara's floor and enter her apartment. Shepard was slightly behind, taking the environment in; from paintings which were, no doubt expensive to the modern chairs on the counters. Shepard imagined this is where Liara took her morning tea, watching the news or reading a book. There were several agents scattered around, some of them sitting at the table as they worked, drinking from Liara's cups. Rage burnt inside Shepard, and she wanted to grab them all and throw them out. Only until she reminded herself that she was acting unreasonably did she calmed down. That and Kellar's hand that was softly touching the back of her arm. She felt awkward with him here. For reasons she was not ready to admit not even to herself.

A turian approached Feron, "Sir!" he greeted and gave a polite nod to the rest of the group.

Feron didn't lose time, "Where did you put him?"

"We cleared one of the guest rooms. Removed the carpet for convenience."

"Is he awake?" Aethyta asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then, what the fuck are we waiting for? When I'm done with him, he won't resemble a turian."

"Wait," Feron stopped her. "We must be careful. For now, he is our only source of information. So no violence. With his concussion, it's too risky. Also, only three of us should go in there," his eyes going from Shepard to Aethyta. "Numbers could be counterproductive in this case."

Aethyta made a face when he mentioned Shepard but gave no further objection as she climbed the stairs leaving them behind.  
Feron sighed and said to Shepard, "We go easy on him. Cruelty won't do anything. He is a hardened mercenary."

"So what?" We should offer him money?" Shepard asked not believing what Feron was proposing.

"Whatever brings Liara home," he said and went upstairs.

Shepard turned to Kellar but didn't have to say anything.

"I'll wait here."

Shepard nodded, thankful for him being reasonable and not making the situation more difficult than necessary and went upstairs to join Feron and Aethyta.

Skipping two steps at the time, Shepard reached Aethyta and Feron in front of one of the doors, which Shepard assumed, lead to the turian kidnapper. Aethyta with her hands on her hips, walked back and forth as if she was using all of her power not to barge in, while Feron was talking to someone.

"So he's good to go?" Feron asked, and the human in front of him nodded.

"Yes, but be gentle. He suffered a major concussion. Any more damage to his head and he's out."

"Gentle, huh?" Aethyta finally stopped fidgeting and instead satisfied herself with crossing her arms across her chest.

"Yes," the human repeated the word more sharply now. "If you want information from him that is. Feron." She nodded and walked past Shepard only giving her a short, curious look. For a moment Shepard thought she would stop and say something, but the human just turned her head and went downstairs without uttering a single word.

"Alright, this is how we are going to do this," Feron started. "No good cop, bad cop. We go in and offer him whatever he wants."

"We have to pander him?" Aethyta said, her lips disfigured by disgusted she felt about the plan.

"He's our only source of information. Do I really have to explain how important it is that we get Liara's location as soon as possible?" By his tone, Shepard could say Feron is losing patience with both of them.

"Just so to be clear," she said, "after Liara is safe, he is mine."

"After Liara is safe, I don't care what you will do with him. Shepard," Feron turned to face Shepard who was leaning against the wall. "You ready?"  
Shepard gave a slight nod, and as if on cue, Aethyta clenched her jaw and opened the door. Feron followed, and Shepard stood still for a moment before following them inside.

The first thing that she noticed was a chair placed in the middle of the room and on it was the turian. Shepard couldn't see his face; his head was hung down, almost touching his chest. But by the movements of his mandibles, she could tell he was under stress. Wherever is it physical from a nasty headache he must have or the psychological from being captured, will be revealed very quickly.

Feron clasped his hands behind his back, and with a slight movement of his head, he dismissed the two guards standing behind the turian. After they left, he spoke.  
"You know what we need."

Shepard was surprised by how calm his voice sounded. That kind of composure comes from years of experience dealing with worst criminals in this part of the galaxy. And by the sight of his body language, he gave the impression of someone who was in command. And he wants to make sure the turian knows that.

As the turian didn't take his chance to say something, Feron continued,  
"Since the location of Doctor T'Soni is of a great value for us, we are willing to make a deal with you."

Turian let out a chuckle.

"I bet she is," he said with his raspy voice.

"If you are willing to cooperate, we can arrange for you to get a better medical examination and to leave unharmed. We can add a few credits so your troubles won't be for nothing."

"Sounds too good to be true," wincing a few times as the pain pierced through, he slowly lifted his head, looking around the room, he first noticed Aethyta who was closest to him, giving her a sly smile before turning his attention back to Feron. "But since I don't have a choice… What do you want to know?"

Shepard's eyebrows raised in surprise.

' _This is too easy,'_ she thought but said nothing.

"Liara T'Soni. Where did you take her?"

"You really like your little doll don't you?"

"Answer the question," Feron ordered.

"Why the hurry? She is safe. I would rather talk about my reward-"

Before either Feron or Shepard could react, Aethyta plunged from the shadows and kicked the turian with such force they both ended on the floor.

"Talk, you piece of shit!" She grabbed his throat, and her fist was in the air, ready to hit again.

Thankfully, Shepard was fast enough to grab her hands, pulling her from the floor. As she was trying to move her away from the turian, his and Shepard eyes met for just a second, but it was enough. Turian smirked at her as recognition flew across Shepard's face.

Regaining composure, Shepard led Aethyta towards the corner of the room.

"Cut it out," she warned her and turned back to the turian who was still looking at her from the floor. But his attention was shifted back to Feron, now standing by him.

"Location," he repeated, now harsher. "If your information proves to be correct you will get your reward."

"How do I know you won't fuck me over?"

Feron shrugged his shoulder, "Because the alternative is not that good. You either talk and go away, or I will leave you with the asari."  
Feron kneeled down and continued, "She's a thousand years old. I'm sure she knows a thing or two on how to have fun with someone for as long as possible."

The turian stayed silent for a moment, trying to hide his fear.

"Fine. She's here on Illium. Give me a map, and I'll place the mark."

"Let's go," he said to Shepard and Aethyta and headed out to get the guards. Aethyta pushed Shepard from her and followed Feron.  
Shepard locked eyes with the turian, who spit the blood from his mouth before saying, "You told me you were going to kill me the next time you see me."

He smirked with confidence. But Shepard said nothing and rushed out of the room and to the hallway where the suspicious Aethyta was waiting for her.

"What was that about?" she asked, but Shepard ignored her and went downstairs to where Feron is instructing his agents on how to they will proceed.

Sometime later, Feron was still getting scans from the location where Liara is supposedly kept. It was in a small house, several hundred miles from the city. Shepard was glad for some time alone. She was angry at herself and needed to cool down. How could she be so blind? And stupid? She was so preoccupied with her relationship with Liara that she didn't notice that something was very off with the group that just happened to park by her house. They could have taken Liara right under her nose, or even worse kill her. Because of her weakness, Liara could get hurt. She hit the wall with her fist. One of the guards jerked around, his rifle raised.

"Easy," Shepard said and as she walked past him. "You don't want to shot someone by accident, now do you?"  
With that she went downstairs, to help plan the rescue. She only hoped the turian wasn't lying. Because if he is, she will keep her promise.


	6. Shade Of Grey

_**A/N:**_ _Finally an update! I want to thank everyone for f_ _ollows, favs and for being patient with this story. Also, a special shout-out to my beta Mokalar, who made sure this chapter is readable :)._

 _Enjoy the update._

* * *

 _'Twenty-seven, twenty-eight...'_

Sense of time was still murky in this dimly lit basement so Liara tried to give it some clarity by counting every crack on the wooden floor she could spot, since producing a coherent thought was a difficult task. She hoped that giving her mind something to do, besides imagining worst-case scenarios, will help break the roadblocks that formed in her head.

 _'This one looks like a dragon! Born from human imagination, a mythical creature that breathes fire. Horns, wings, and tail... although there were sightings of the flying beast in various systems. I wonder...'_

Her mind, because of the lack of visual stimuli, was more prone to form various objects and creatures from random patterns. She allowed herself to follow the train of thought that came with it. But her thoughts were more in the line of a feverish mind than one of accomplished academic. And when she wasn't preoccupied in making sense where there is none, she tried to unite herself, but it was hard to concentrate her biotics on the rope that tightly holds her wrists together. It would be a challenge in normal circumstances, but now, when her body is still battling the side effects of the drug leaving her body, it was just out of the realms of possibility. Maybe it was for the best, as she couldn't form a plan for what she would do after she managed to free herself. Even if she knew _what_ she would do, she didn't know _how_ would she do it.

On the physical side, things were not much better. When her batarian guard led her to the bathroom some time ago, walking up the stairs was akin to climbing a mountain. She managed to ascend a few steps before her knees went weak and darkness conquered her vision. The batarian was quick enough and caught her, so she didn't hit her head. He was surprisingly gentle as he helped her reach the end of the hallway where the supposed bathroom was. But when she was alone with him in the cold, humid, white-tiled room, a scary thought ran through her unharmed head; he could assault her and she couldn't do a thing to defend herself. Nor would anyone help her. Thankfully, he just stood there and was enough of a gentleman to turn his back. Although he did warn her to not try anything. Not that she could do something, she was still weak and he made sure her restraints, now around her ankles, were tight. At least he freed her hands so she could undress by herself and not with the help of an unknown man. When she was finished, he tied her hands and led her back to the basement. In retrospect, she was grateful the whole ordeal was only embarrassing. In a situation like these, one could only hope things wouldn't go past embarrassing.

After they returned from what once upon a time could be called a bathroom, she tried to talk to him. First by thanking him for being polite, but his only response was making sure the ropes are tight and without uttering a single word, he returned to the couch. Minutes later, she tried to ask him about Nick. He answered with a look that made his thoughts on the conversation more than clear, _'If you don't shut up, the sack goes back on.'_

So Liara stayed silent, and between counting deformities in the wall and realizing how being without a sack wasn't as much of a victory as she hoped, she tried to think of another way to get him on her side. After all, they were mostly alone, save for that one time another guard brought his friend something to drink.

Inspiration struck her when she noticed a small notepad and a pencil lying on top of it. Struggling to see, she noticed that the lines aren't random drabbles made of boredom; they formed clear shapes. It was a drawing of a humanoid character in full armor, with his gun raised. Liara noticed that her guard hadn't started shading his art yet, besides the small part of the helmet. But there was something very familiar with the drawn character and his unique armor. Liara saw him before, but where? She closed her eyes, trying to remember. She followed her memories until one with Feron hit her. It's a comic book character! Feron used to read that one in his free time before it was discontinued about a year or two ago. She could even remember bits and pieces Feron filled her on the storyline which she half-listened as she worked. How annoying Feron was with his comics! It was more than once she wished he would just leave her alone when she had some late night working to do. He always stayed or lurked in the lounge area making sure she was safe.

It angered her because she felt he was treating her like some incapable, cowardly scientist. And one night, after a particularly long day, they had a rather loud argument over his protective nature. Feron, smart enough to know when to back down and not to push things, finally agreed and left Liara alone. He still stayed, because his stubbornness wouldn't allow him otherwise, but much less than before. Oh, what a fool she was! He was right, about security and being more careful... about everything. She will do anything she can so she gets a chance to say that to him in person. To properly thank him for being a friend and to apologize for being an arrogant fool.

"That drawing," Liara started carefully, "is that agent 49?"

Batarian looked up and gave a glance to his prisoner, raising his brow before returning his attention to the datapad in his hands.

"I'm surprised you know about him," he said nonchalantly, crossing his outstretched legs. "Action heroes are not well known among your type."

"My type?" Liara asked, confused.

"Uptight and spoiled," he clarified as he aimlessly scrolled the web-page he was reading.

It was a low blow for Liara, but she had bigger worries than wounded pride. If only he knew how much she had to fight for everything, maybe he would be more sympathetic towards her.

"I had my share of challenges in life. I didn't have everything handed to me on a silver plate."

The batarian smirked but Liara continued, edginess filled her voice, "I'm not spoiled."

He threw the datapad on the table and rested his head against the couch, his fingers interlaced on his stomach as he stared at the ceiling.

"You had a rich, powerful mother, who gave you everything you ever needed. Good education, fancy house, maids that jumped at your every whim. You never discovered the _privilege_ of going to bed hungry. And yet you got in a fight with her, not talking for years just because she asked you to find a more appropriate career, one worthy of a daughter of a Matriarch."

"Yea," he turned to Liara's shocked face. "It's easy to find information about you, Doctor. So, if you are not spoiled, then what are you? What nickname do they have for you in asari language? Besides pureblood?"

Liara clenched her teeth as she heard the word that haunted her since she was a child, but the batarian didn't stop.

"Because my family would call your behavior that of a spoiled kid. You didn't get what you want once in your life and you threw a tantrum like a baby."

He gave her a sly smile, satisfied how angry she looked.

"You don't have the slightest idea what kind of relationship I had with my mother," Liara said, her voice trembling with anger. "And maybe you see yourself in me. What's your story?" she tilted her head to the side as if studying an artifact. "You never reached the expectations your parents set for you. And in a desperate act of rebeliness, you became a tough criminal to spite them because they didn't pat you on the head when, if you ever did anything right."

Liara couldn't stop herself and she realized how stupid she is only when the last words left her mouth, "Or maybe, you are following in their footsteps. They must be so proud."

The batarian expression changed to something Liara couldn't decipher. He took the unfinished drawing from the table and after studying it a bit he walked towards her. He crouched in front of her, his face a bit lower than her own.

"I grew up in a small mining colony," he started, his voice unusually calm. "My folks were decent, hard-working batarians. All my family was. We did have some rotten fruit here and there, but most of us," he patted his chest with pride, "believed in hard and honest work than the life of a pirate." He looked down at the drawing in his hands studying every stroke of cheap graphite on the rough paper.

"When I was a kid, every day after school, I would run home just to watch a new episode of Blasto. I would buy every comic they released, with my own money I earned doing various jobs during the school break. I dreamt of becoming an artist myself. Draw my own comics, make the worlds and characters I had in my head real. Share them with someone, you know?"

He smiled a little, as memory crept in.  
"My nephew loved my drawings. He would make up heroes and I would draw them. But his favorite was a real one. A human if you can believe that! Commander Shepard."

Liara could feel chills run down her spine as batarian sneered the name of her friend.

"He would even talk about being an N7 himself. I didn't have the heart to tell him that N7 is only reserved for humans."

The floor creaked as he stood up.

"One day I heard there would be a comic-con in a nearby system. I begged my parents to let me go. After a week of begging they agreed. I was so fucking happy."

He looked at the drawing again, "Only, my little nephew wanted to come too. I said to him, 'You are too small! Next year, you will be old enough to go with me.' That day never came because a week later, his hero killed him, and our entire family. So no, Doctor. I'm not rebelling. I have no one left to rebel against. I have nothing left. My family, my home, my future... all gone. Buried in the ashes of a mining colony, by someone my nephew and even myself called a hero."

"I'm so sorry. " Liara was sincere but it only made batarian smirk.

"We followed you on Earth. You didn't look like someone who would be sorry for anything that monster did. In fact, you looked like you two are close friends. Maybe Commander Shepard is your hero too?"

"It wasn't her fault. She tried to warn-"

"Bullshit!" he roared, now so close Liara could see how his eyes weren't that dark, rather they were a shade of grey. The wooden arms of the chair creaked as he gripped them. After a few seconds, he reached for the sack and put it back over Liara's head despite her protests.

"Doesn't matter does it?" He said as he adjusted the sack so it won't fall. "In a few hours, you will have a chance for a new life, where you won't be so spoiled."

He said and returned to his post, but this time, he stared into the abyss of the dark corner of the room, heavy paper loosely held in his hand.

* * *

"We checked the entire house Feron," Benny said, "No one's been here for a long time."

Feron absentmindedly nodded but said nothing. Benny stood at the door for a few moments, unsure should she do or say something. Finally, she decided it's for the best to leave them alone. She had no place in the argument that was inevitable to happen. After the door closed, Feron looked around, studying the occupants.

Shepard was in the middle of the room, crouched, staring at the dusty floor. Aethyta, hands on her hips and with the pace of a nervous beast, walked from one corner to another. Kellar stood near the door, thumbs in his vest. He didn't produce a sound. His focus was mostly on Shepard. Only now and then he glanced at the marching asari.

It looked all surreal. How could he be so wrong? Why did he trust the turian? He should have seen this coming. This-

"This is all your fault!" Aethyta screamed. At first, Feron thought she yelled at him, but when he looked up, he saw Aethyta pointing at Shepard her finger visibly trembling.

Shepard looked up and without breaking eye contact with the furious asari, slowly stood up.

"Me?" she spat out.

"Don't act dumb! You knew the turian was lying!"

"I had my suspicions. It was too easy."

In a fraction of second, biotic blue surrounded Aethyta and she slammed Shepard into the wall, making Kellar jerk and move towards them to separate the two women, but Feron stopped him. Kellar glared at him but Feron just shook his head, as if to say, _'they need to settle this on their own'_.

"You saw him before! I heard what he said to you!"

"You know him?" Feron asked, trying to catch up with the reason for Aethyta outburst.

Shepard slightly lowered her head, "Back on Earth. They were probably planning to take her there."

"And you did nothing! You let them go!" Aethyta yelled in desperation.

Shepard closed her eyes for a moment. Was it because she was gathering patience or battling shame, Feron wasn't sure.

"Shepard-," Feron tried to calm everyone down, but he was no match for Aethyta's rage.

"If anything happens to Liara it will be your fault!"

The accusation, which held more truth then Shepard was able to take, made her bite in return like a wounded beast trapped in the corner.

"My fault? It's not my fault your daughter plays with fire! And since we're at it, why didn't _you_ protect her? You and your little private army? It didn't cross your fucking mind that she might be in danger?"

Shepard slammed Aethyta's hands away.

"I didn't even talk to her for the past few years and you have the nerve-"

"That's right. She was fine until you entered her life Commander," Aethyta laughed bitterly, throwing her arms in the air. "Don't you see the pattern? As soon as you show up, something bad happens!"

"Oh look in the mirror asari! Where were you for most of her life? She grew up thinking you were ashamed of her! Even when her mother died, when she needed you the most, you hid like a coward! You have some balls telling me that I'm ruining her life. I might have made some bad decisions," Shepard said through gritted teeth, "but at least I was there for her. While you ran away as soon as you had to be a decent father."

Aethyta slowly shook her head, as impatience grew inside her, "You better watch your fucking mouth, Shepard."

"Or what?" Shepard challenged.

"Or-"

Feron stepped between them, pushing them apart.

"Enough! Enough already! We all care about Liara. Each in our own way," he said the last sentence a little quieter. "And instead of working together to save her, you have some petty arguments. Well, guess what? If she's dead none of us will be in her life. Nor will it matter who sent her birthday cards every year!"

He scoffed in disgust, "Both of you say you care about Liara, but I only see two idiots who would rather risk her well being instead of swallowing their damn pride! And every minute we waste here, Liara loses one! Did you think about that?"

Shepard looked away, and even Aethyta hung her head just a bit. Feron calmed down seeing their reaction. Perhaps he managed to get through their thick skulls, which in itself is an undertaking equal to uniting a galaxy.

"Shepard you better not be holding anything else."

"That's fucking righ-", Aethyta eagerly chimed in.

"Shut up. I don't care what you have with Shepard, deal with it after Liara is safe."

"Gladly. This isn't over Commander."

Both Aethyta and Shepard used their ranks as drills to dig a hole illuminating what they hate in each other. For Aethyta it was the position she held in a society she doesn't approve of. In the past, she managed to control her anger, with the help of Benezia's soft hand on her knee during the more heated Matriarch meetings, followed by the bedroom where Benezia let her be everything that an elegant, sophisticated asari shouldn't be. Even Benezia, a picture of patience and a firm believer that people can change had a breaking point. Ultimately that optimism, not naivete, as many would think, is what led her to her grave.

"It's Captain," Shepard's upper lip disfigured in rage.

For Shepard, it was her past. The famous Commander Shepard. No longer a rank, but a badge she wore. Hero or a villain, the lines are blurred, sharpened only by those who you ask. And it's always a different answer. The line bends at different points, pushing Shepard either way. But unlike Aethyta, Shepard didn't have anyone to share her burden, that special someone who would accept the whole her, good and bad. And the uncertainty of what she is, slowly nibbled her identity away making her merge with whatever argument should win.

So in this little war, Aethyta had an upper hand. Shepard was only resisting for the sake of her dignity and the prideful nature that never withered.

"And you can count on it, Matriarch."

With that, she marched out of the room, followed by her loyal companion who didn't even look at the two aliens they left behind.


End file.
